


Cafe Au Lait

by Blerg3



Category: Original Work
Genre: Consensual, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Father/Daughter Incest, Incest, Mother/daughter incest, Oral Sex, Watersports, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blerg3/pseuds/Blerg3
Summary: Thomas is happily married with a teenage daughter. He's always known his wife, Emily, holds some unusual views on what constitutes a good parent-child relationship, but now Sandy's a teenager, he's about to find out just how much she takes after her mother...
Kudos: 39





	1. Sandy's Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> _All of the characters in this work of fiction are, of course, fictional. Despite this, all should be assumed to be of legal age to partake in any activities depicted. I do not condone or wish to promote any illegal or antisocial actions depicted here._
> 
> \---
> 
> _This one started as a sounding board for my own thoughts on parent-child incest, and like most things I write, rapidly became porn._
> 
> _If you like what I write, please comment, I appreciate any feedback!_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas discovers Sandy's intent, and grapples with his own morals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Father/daughter incest in the form of a blowjob and a pee scene this chapter._

Thomas Carroll, forty, wandered downstairs at approximately nine-thirty am, scratching his chin and yawning. The rich smell of coffee already floated through the air, and his stomach rumbled as he entered the kitchen where his wife and daughter were having breakfast.

Emily was in great shape, even at thirty seven, and in her skintight running gear, it really showed. His wife of nineteen years, and still every bit as sexy as when they'd met. He wasn't too bad himself, he thought as he sat down, grimacing ruefully at the bacon-free table. Still, you had to pay a price, and things like that were the price.

He would usually be out there running with Emily every Saturday, but his knee had been acting up recently, so on doctor's orders he was taking a break. It wasn't so bad, he enjoyed spending lazy Saturday mornings with their daughter Sandra, watching TV or playing the occasional card game, but he could almost feel himself getting fatter, and craved the exercise.

He poured a bowl of cereal, blearily came very close to pouring coffee on top of it, but was corrected just in time by Sandy. Sitting back with a cup of it under his nose, he slowly began to wake up. He watched Sandy affectionately as she sliced an apple, buttered a piece of toast, her thick curls waving, loose and wild about her shoulders.

It was quite amazing, he thought, how their daughter had ended up with this stunning explosion of loose brown coils while his own short hair was coal black, and Emily's straw blonde. Pure luck of the genetic draw. Though, looking at the teen, that luck of the draw was beginning to show through in other ways.

She was wearing her usual nightwear, one of his old t-shirts, a soft baggy thing worn and holed at the shoulders and with the Cure's album art for Disintegration emblazoned across the front. It fell halfway to her knees, but even so she was looking quite shapely- particularly her legs. Her mother's legs were pretty fantastic, one of the things that had drawn him to her when she'd been about the same age, but if he was totally honest, Sandra's were well on their way to spectacular.

He felt a little ashamed at the thought, comparing his wife to his daughter, and in such a typically male way, but hell, they were right there. As was the rest of her. She caught him looking her way and grinned widely, her bright hazel eyes flashing with amusement. He'd seen that look a lot recently and wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but compared to the horror stories he'd heard from colleagues about their teenage kids, he'd take any relatively happy look.

He looked over to Em and shrugged. She smiled, kicked him affectionately under the table, and pushed her chair back.  
"Alright kids, I'm off out." She placed her empty cereal bowl on the counter, then returned to the table to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back in an hour or two, if the weather holds up. If it starts raining, I'll be back sooner. You two have fun."

He finished the remainder of his coffee pensively, and poured another cup while Sandy tidied her plate and bowl, placing them by the sink before turning back to him.  
"Hey dad, should I wash up?" He smiled.  
"Thanks love." Yeah, he'd definitely come out lucky with the teenage lottery.

He finished his cereal and passed the bowl to Sandy, up to her elbows in foam, large yellow washing up gloves comical on her small hands. She'd tied a knot in the t-shirt at one corner to keep it out of the way, incidentally pulling it up at that side and revealing half a bare cheek.

If he was only twenty years younger and someone else's father, he thought with amusement, sitting back at the table. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he looked back sharply- was she wearing panties? No, come on, he told himself. If she is or isn't, it's not a big deal- she's at home on a Saturday morning, only us here.

He remembered all too clearly an embarrassing period less than ten years previously when she'd gone through a phase of refusing to wear them, and their attempts to get her to at least wear trousers to school instead of the dresses she usually favoured. Now he could remember that with a grin, but at the time it had been awkward to say the least.

However, now she was in her teens, she could definitely choose for herself whether or not to wear underwear at home on a Saturday, none of his business. He took a banana from the fruit bowl and tried to get his mind off of the subject of his daughter's panties. Still... he looked over at her again. He didn't think she was wearing any. But, the more juvenile part of his brain said, she's got a cute butt.

And the irritating part was, it was right. He couldn't help but watch the slight movements of fabric across it as her arms moved in the soapy water, even with the growing certainty she was going to turn around and catch him staring. Reach up, he thought, just put something on a high shelf, so I have confirmation one way or the other and I can stop thinking about it.

He was slightly alarmed to realise he wanted her not to be wearing anything, like the early days when he'd lived with Emily and had her tease him in a similar fashion. Was this all a sort of horny nostalgia? Or, he realised with a stronger flash of alarm, was his own daughter actually teasing him? The internal conflict only grew as he realised how shocked he was by the idea, yet how much he wanted that to be the case.

If I leave the room now, he thought, go and do something else, I can forget about it, at least for now. That's all I need. Then when Emily gets back, I can hop in the shower with her, maybe talk to her about it. Or, another part of his brain said, sort it out now. Just ask her. They were always honest with each other, it couldn't hurt.

"What, dad?" Sandy said, turning to him, gloves dripping on the floor. Oh god, he'd asked her. Said the question out loud. No choice but to blunder on, if she had heard, backing out now could leave the situation in an incredibly awkward vacuum.  
"I was just wondering if you were wearing any underwear, young lady." He attempted to make it sound as fatherly and jovial as possible, but that was a sentence you couldn't ask anyone over a certain age without it having different connotations, and he could hear them ringing out the moment he'd said it.

She stood there, and he wondered if that was it, he'd ruined their happy father-daughter relationship- and then she blushed.  
"You noticed."  
"I noticed?" He echoed, confusedly.  
"I do just like the way it feels not wearing any, but why else would I be going without right now?" There was a sudden lurch in his stomach, like a bowling ball dropped onto a trampoline.

"You wanted me to see. Sandy, why? You're my daughter!"  
"I know- but I'm going to be honest here- that's part of it. I think about you, a lot. And about mum." Thomas shook his head as though he could dislodge what he was hearing, the shock feeling as though his brain was being flushed through with cold water.  
"I just don't get it. Of everyone in the world, all the cute teenage boys and girls out there, your own parents?" She blushed more deeply, lowered her head.  
"It's weird, I know it is, but that's sort of why. It's taboo. Exciting. I fantasized a long time, but I think I'm old enough to decide that I don't just want a fantasy, dad."

He wasn't sure how to react to any of this, it shocked him to the core; but some undercurrent, the same part that defiantly told him she was so attractive, had tapped into that excitement she described. It was wrong, broke all the rules, but precisely for that reason it was... hot. However, that was fantasy, and the reality struck him as something that just didn't fit into his world.

"What would your mother say?" He said, almost in desperation to find some point that would at least buy him time to think. Sandra looked at him skeptically.  
"What do you think, dad?" He winced. Emily. She'd always advocated some... well, slightly atypical points of view on such things. She'd even told him once, back before Sandy was born, that sex between family members struck her as a good idea, at least earlier in life. He couldn't remember her reasoning, only the look in her eyes as he pulled a face, the one that told him she thought he was being narrow-minded.

God help him, it was one of the things he loved about her, that she could take a viewpoint that struck him as unnatural and utterly shatter his convictions with solid reasoning. Sandy had clearly inherited that mode of thought, and more besides. Of course, if Sandy had mentioned this fantasy to Emily first then she would've worked through it, and probably seen no logical reason for her daughter not to go ahead and try for what she wanted. But while Emily might say these things, he'd seen no evidence in recent years to suggest that if he were to actually act on any of them it would go down well with her. So, what to do?

"Are you alright, dad?" Sandy asked, showing obvious and touching concern.  
"I'm okay. But it's a shock, Sandy, I'm just processing. In any case- have you actually talked to your mother about this?" She hesitated, then nodded.  
"I thought she'd understand- well, better. Dad... haven't you wondered why she's out running right now?"

Thomas looked blankly at his daughter.  
"She's running, like you said. Exercise." Sandy dropped the gloves back by the sink, pulled out a chair, and sat across the table from him.  
"She's been giving me some time and space with you. I didn't expect... I mean, I sorted of acted on the spur of the moment today. We had a longer plan, but..." She grinned wryly. "Well."

Comprehension dawned slowly but inevitably, one of those moments where you see the ball headed for your face, but can't seem to stop thinking and dodge the thing.  
"You mean to say, my wife, your mother, has been giving her teenage daughter space to develop a... a sexual relationship with her father?" Sandy nodded cautiously, as though he might explode. Instead, he laughed, suddenly, as long and hard as he could remember ever having laughed at anything. When he'd recovered to some degree, and Sandy was looking at him with that concern again, he managed to catch his breath long enough to speak.

"Sandy, this is incredibly confusing. But I think we can say you have the best mother you could hope for, and I have the best wife. She's crazy, but I love her. So much. And I love you. And I'd be lying to myself and insulting you, and your mum, if I said... well, that I wasn't attracted to you, in some capacity. So there you have it. I can't say I'm thinking too clearly about this, and I certainly haven't thought through any consequences, but if... if you've both given this, whatever it is, the go ahead, and I can't really object without both being a bad dad and husband and lying even to myself, then I guess it has to be something positive. Okay then."

The moment the last word was out, it was as though he'd popped some massive bubble of tension and confusion, everything was alright again, however odd the circumstances and morals might be. It felt as though after days working at picking apart the Gordian knot, he'd simply been handed a few bits and pieces and a simple instruction manual, and on fitting them together finding he'd crafted a sword.

But now what? Sandy was smiling.  
"We're a weird family." He nodded agreement.  
"The weirdest. But I'd also be inclined to say we're among the happiest and oddly enough, most problem free. You'd still be a fantastic daughter even if I hadn't suddenly discovered, well, this." Sandy grinned.  
"That's the weirdest thing, isn't it? We can say it now, it's out in the open, but it's still difficult. It's like the first time you try swearing in front of your parents and it turns out it's okay, but you still find it strange to do so. But... hell. Dad, you know what?"  
"What, love?" He replied, relishing the moment. There was a pause as they looked straight into each other's eyes over the kitchen table, hers that fantastic green and amber blend, his a warm dark brown.  
"I want to have sex with you."

Even knowing it was coming, it was delicious. An electric shock ran down his spine, his heart rate and breathing spiking instantly, like the first time Emily had told him she loved him. Despite her absence, the moment served to deepen that truth, and reinforce his love for her- as well as to tent his boxers like a cathedral's spire.

"Sandy- you too. I can't bring myself to say the sorts of things I want to say, but you can be sure I'm thinking them." She broke into a wide smile.  
"Like what? I've seen plenty of porn dad, read a lot of stuff online. I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy hearing it, whatever it is. Even- no, especially- from my dad."  
"I want to-" It rang out shockingly loud in his head; 'I want to come on your tits.' But his throat somehow wouldn't loosen enough to say something like that to his daughter. He'd said a lot of far dirtier things to Emily over the years, but there was no way he could have when they first met, and this felt similar. He sighed. Sandy giggled.

"You're too nice, dad." She looked down at the table, then coyly caught his eye again. "I want to lick honey off your cock." It didn't even register for a moment, sounded so unnatural his brain blanked it out. Then it caught.  
"Sandy!" She laughed richly.  
"You're blushing, dad. Who knew you were so easily embarrassed?" He broke into a grin, then slipped easily from his seat and around the table, catching Sandy by the sides as she made to run and tickling her until she screamed with laughter.

He fell back in her chair, Sandy collapsing into his lap in a fit of giggles. Catching her breath, she looked over her shoulder mischievously.  
"What's that I feel against my back?" He was all too aware of how he was pressed up against her, but even more so of a certain slippery feeling on his bare leg.  
"I might ask you the same about my leg." She looked down, then slid from his lap, turned and sat back down on his knees, lifting her t-shirt.  
"Oh, you mean this?" she said casually.

He'd known for a little while now that she wasn't wearing panties, but that was the moment it really clicked home, as he saw the pink and slippery parting in her flesh, its topping of fine dark hair, and the glistening patch on his thigh. Trying not to overthink it, he caught the front of his boxers with a thumb and hooked it over his cock, letting it fall heavily forward, suspended at forty five degrees right above her wet slit.

He saw her eyes widen as she took in the size of it, and grinned in the realisation that he was bigger than she'd expected, always a pleasant reaction. She looked up at him and giggled.  
"My, daddy, what a big cock you have!" He beamed back and kissed her forehead- fitting enough that she would play on how they used to read red riding hood together when she was little.  
"All the better to fill you with, my dear." He leered.

She laughed, then leant back and slowly pulled her t-shirt off the whole way, dropping it carefully on another chair.  
"And how about these, mister big bad wolf?" She said as she pushed her chest forward, but the line was a little forced, and he could detect some real anxiety in her voice. He thought of Em's fairly substantial chest, and could see why she might be worried about how he would see her own.

However, any worries were entirely unfounded. Her breasts weren't large, but pert and perfectly sized for his hands, a dusting of freckles across their upper curves, small tan nipples upturned and erect. He leant back in his chair and surveyed her contentedly.  
"Sandy, I can hardly believe you're my daughter sometimes. You're fucking beautiful- more so than I ever could've imagined you'd grow up to be- you've got your mum to thank for all that." She slid slowly forward until his cock was pressed upright against her flat belly, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and kissed him.  
"You're such a liar dad, and you know it." She slipped back again, and he felt a taboo thrill as she wrapped a hand tightly around his cock with a grin. "You look great."

Abruptly she let go, and started to rise to her feet.  
"But first, I've got to go and pee." Thomas caught her thighs and sat her back down.  
"I don't see why you need to go anywhere for that..." Reaching round her, he caught the handle of the large glass jug they used for orange juice in the mornings, and slopped the remainder into his empty bowl, before holding it up in front of her. A slow smile spread across her face.

"Aha, daddy has a secret fetish?"  
"Well, maybe not a very secret one, but yes I do- I might well even blame little you for it." She laughed hard, clapping her hands delightedly.  
"Because I...?" He nodded, slightly shamefaced. She grinned ever wider. "Oh, I love that." She caught the jug and lowered it as he spread his legs until she was sitting with her legs spread wider, bridging the gap, with the jug on the floor beneath them.

She closed her eyes as he watched intently, and within seconds the first spurt of urine burst from her and rang against the bottom of the jug. She opened her eyes again with a grin, and seeing Thomas smile, continued, the steady stream of pee spattering into the jug, the pitch of the ringing changing as the level rose inside it.

His face was ecstatic, and she couldn't help but giggle, missing the jug slightly and spraying the tiles beneath his chair, which only made them both grin wider. She finished and waited as the last few drops fell, and he picked up the jug and put it aside on the table, and kissed her. Even as his lips met hers, she felt his hand brush down through her pubic hair then curve under, slick against her wet skin. A finger probed, gently found its way inside her and began to move lightly, somehow touching just the right places to rapidly build waves of pleasure.

Thomas felt an odd thrill that Sandy should respond so well to exactly the things that worked on Em- he'd heard, though he couldn't remember where, that such things were occasionally inherited, but it was something he'd never expected to find out first hand. He could feel her moving around his finger, tightening and releasing, hear her slight gasps as his fingers found other sensitive spots. His daughter. Every time he thought it, every fresh realisation of the facts was another perfect thrill (and slight touch of guilt, but that would pass).

"If your mum could see us now..." He said.  
"She'd be taking her clothes off already." Sandy replied. "You know... mum taught me to masturbate when I was younger?" He laughed.  
"You needed teaching?" She tilted her head and smiled.  
"Not really, but she gave me some good tips- and her teaching method was very... hands on." She pulled his hand away, face showing some reluctance, and slid from his knees to the floor beneath the table.  
"What's up?" He asked her. She grinned playfully, only her smile showing beneath the edge of the tablecloth. "Nothing. But it's my turn now."

She put her hands on his knees and slid forward, the tablecloth brushing her hair back wildly from her eyes, and slid her lips over the tip of his penis. She paused with the tip just beyond her teeth, those sparkling eyes looking right up into his, gaze electric, before turning her eyes down again, and slipping her lips further down. He held onto the edge of the chair, white knuckled. She wasn't taking him particularly deep into her mouth, but her lips and tongue were expert, and the waves of pleasure were threatening to wash him over the edge already, only half a minute in. She seemed to sense that and slowed, rolling his penis gently around her tongue then slipping back, a strand of saliva snapping to her lip. She wiped her mouth bashfully, then grinned.  
"Am I doing well?"  
"There aren't any words to describe it." She smiled happily.  
"That bad, huh?"  
"The worst."

Her lips tightened around the tip of his cock again, tongue circling, joined by her right hand moving on the shaft, and suddenly her left hand caressing his testes. The motions were regular but the combination and timing was magical, and he rose to near orgasm in seconds. Without removing her mouth she felt carefully on the table behind her, catching the handle of his half full and still warm coffee, and managed to bring it round without spilling any, pulling her head away as her hand grew faster, pushing him over the edge.

She tilted the coffee mug, rim to the underside of his penis as it hit him hard enough his hips jerked, spurting creamy load after load into the warm black coffee. Just when he thought he was done she slipped her free hand to the base of his cock, stroking the shaft and balls lightly at the same time, sending another wave of pleasure rippling through him, and more sperm splashing into the mug.

He let his head fall back, eyes closed, as the orgasm ebbed, feeling literally drained. He could feel as she moved from under the table, and hopped up in front of him to perch on its edge. As soon as he could easily speak again he lifted his head.  
"Where on earth did you...?" She gestured vaguely with the coffee mug.  
"I had some tips from mum. That, and my imagination I guess."  
"You have always had quite the imagination. That was- spectacular. Incredible." She fixed her eyes on his as she grinned and lifted the coffee, took a sip. He pulled a face.  
"That can't taste great." She smiled wryly.  
"Honestly, it doesn't. But I wanted your cum inside me, and I didn't want to do something like gag if you shot straight in my mouth, so this is the first thing I thought of." She tilted her head and drained the cup, then wrinkled her nose.  
"Bitter."

Thomas was hit abruptly with the memory of the first time Em had taken him in her mouth, and her comment at the time, with the same nose wrinkle, the same inflection on the one word. He laughed out loud.  
"You are incredibly like your mother, you know." Sandy lifted a foot to his lap, lazily playing with his shrinking cock with her toes.  
"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it? And speaking of her, what are we going to say, going to do when she gets back?" He grinned at her.  
"We? This was all your idea, I was seduced." Sandy gasped in mock outrage, then grinned back.  
"Like that makes it any better for you." She pointed a finger dramatically. "In the eyes of the law this was adultery. And incest? Have we done enough it would still be called incest?"

He frowned.  
"I think so. I'm hazy on all the legal issues, but at the very least you could say it was incestuous." Sandy looked amused, and slipped back forward to his knees.  
"It's probably illegal as hell whatever, what with me being just a little baby teenager... so why quibble over the details?" He had to grin at that.  
"True, true. Well, whatever the case may be, I think the best solution when your mother gets back is that we allow her to deduce instantly everything that happened in that way she always does, and then we join her in the shower." Sandy smiled eagerly, those spectacular eyes glittering.  
"That sounds like a plan, dad. A fantasy of yours?" He kissed her forehead, and grinned.  
"I can't say it wouldn't be fantastic."


	2. Emily's Participation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily returns, and can't wait to get caught up and join in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Explicit sex between a mother, father and their daughter in this chapter._

While they waited for Emily to return, Sandy moved to the living room to watch TV, easily continuing her usual Saturday morning routine, and Thomas cleared the table, his mind still digesting. Everything was more or less the same, their lives hadn't been overturned, but he would never look at his daughter the same way again, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out how he felt about that. He was still her father and always would be, but his image of her as an innocent child had crumbled, and while on one hand he was delighted to be seeing her as a woman (and in such an intimate way), on the other he couldn't help but mourn the loss. However, Sandy was clearly happy, and that was what was important.

He poured the jug of pee down the sink with a grin, and gave the floor a quick wipe with an already dirty dishtowel. Maybe that was something Emily didn't need to know about yet... As he finished cleaning the last coffee cup he heard the rattle of the door, and went through to greet his wife. Sandy approached from the living room, t-shirt back in place, and Emily looked from his smiling but guilty face to Sandy's blush, and grinned.

"I gather our beautiful daughter's plan went all according to... Well, plan. How was it, my big kids?"  
Sandra looked to him, and he stared back open mouthed, until they both burst out laughing. Emily's grin widened.  
"OK, I'm going to wash myself down and get into something less sweaty, give you two some time to get your story straight. Then I want details, people!" Blowing a kiss to Thomas, she bounced up the stairs. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.  
"Sandy, I love your mother an unbelievable amount. If I get lockjaw again when she comes back down, tell her that for me, won't you?" She shook her head, smiling playfully.  
"Tell her yourself. I'm still trying to figure out how to say to my mum that I've had my dad's penis in my mouth now."  
"Oh, god. Do we really have to tell her everything? I'm sure your mum knows well enough already, with her psychic abilities."  
"I think so, dad." Sandy grinned. "I'll tell her most of it if you'll handle the peeing." He pulled a face of mock horror.

Within five minutes Emily was back downstairs, her blonde hair wet, wrapped in a fluffy white dressing gown. She pulled them to the sofa, where over the course of fifteen slightly awkward minutes, they revealed everything to her. Emily grinned, smiled, laughed and commented frequently, but didn't once seem upset, and Thomas felt his chest swelling with love and pride. How many men could claim to be half this lucky? When he awkwardly explained his way through the moment with the jug, Emily laughed and covered her mouth abruptly, squeezing his arm as he looked offended.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. But I always knew it- you were usually the one to take Sandy off to pee in the bushes, weren't you? Even if I said, 'let me,' you'd just say 'no, no, I've got this.' Ulterior motives much, Thomas?" He felt his cheeks redden, and adopted a haughty demeanour.  
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Oh, dad. I should've known." Sandy said, grinning. He shot her a mock warning looking.  
"Don't you start, little lady, unless you want a spanking." Sandy wriggled in her seat.  
"Ooh daddy, spank me!" He grinned.  
"Don't tempt me."  
Once done telling Emily their story, and conversation naturally petering out, the three snuggled up comfortably on the sofa, Thomas bracketed by his two girls leaning on his shoulders, warm curves against his sides, and settled back with a happy sigh. Every worry he'd had had proved unfounded, and while time would tell if any cracks developed, for now it was perfect. He settled into a doze, until Emily decided to wake him up.

He felt her breath on his ear first, and roused himself enough to listen to what she was whispering.  
"You know, I've had these fantasies for a while now."  
"Hmm?" He answered sleepily.  
"Where you would fuck Sandy. Slip into our daughter's bedroom, throw back the sheets, and work your big hard cock into her tight pussy. And I'd get to watch." She whispered into his ear, a playful smile in her voice. That woke him up.  
"Woah, Em. That's, er..." Sandy lifted her head in surprise at his outburst.  
"What is, dad? What's up?"  
"Nothing, Sandy, just..." Em prodded him in the ribs.  
"Don't close up now, you big prude. You digest the idea, I'll tell her." She leant around him to grin at Sandy. "I was just telling your dad about how for a little while now, I've had fantasies about him having sex with you." Sandy's face remained blank.  
"And by for a while, you mean...?" Emily nodded agreeably. No matter what else, Thomas couldn't fault her self confidence.

"That's... weirdly hot." Sandy said, smiling guiltily. Thomas nodded agreement with his daughter's sensible rebuttal, then shook his head. Wait, what?  
"What?" Sandy shifted awkwardly on the sofa, pulling her t-shirt over her knees.  
"It is, dad. I dunno, just... I like it. The idea. It's so... taboo. Beyond taboo. And that makes it really exciting.” She frowned, clearly working away at something in her head. "Hmm. If I tell you something, you won't be mad, right?"  
"Will it force me to adjust my view of your mother yet again?" He said, with an awkward smile at Emily. "You just live to shake up my worldview, don't you?" She grinned at him unashamedly.  
"If I didn't, would you love me half as much?"  
"Probably not. But this is one that's going to take a while to wrap my head around, love." Sandy prodded him in the side.  
"Hey, parentals. I was speaking."  
"Sorry, Sandy. Go on."  
"Well, when I was a kid, I'd watch you have sex sometimes." Thomas' vision blurred a little for a moment, and he shook his head weakly.  
"Did I ever know anything about my family?"  
"Of course not honey, you're the man of the house. Carry on, Sandy."  
"When you thought I was asleep in bed, and you'd do it downstairs," Sandy said in a near whisper, blushing. "Sometimes I'd sneak down and watch. I was never scared, because even if it looked and sounded painful or odd, I could see your faces when you looked at each other. The love. So, yeah," she said defiantly. "I'd imagine you doing the same things with me. Loving me." She grinned. "Maybe that's why we're all here now."  
"Of course you liked the idea, if that's what you saw in it. Jesus, Em. We should have been more careful."  
"No dad, that's missing the point. Why hide an act of love? And what does age matter if that's what it is?"

Thomas had to sit and think about that, and Emily tweaked his nose.  
"She's got you there, big Tom." Then she turned to Sandy. "You want to watch us now, if your dad's not worn out? No need for foreplay this time." Thomas considered it. The idea both made him uncomfortable and excited him, but it was really a small step on, considering what he'd just done and heard. Sandy nodded eagerly, though couldn't quite meet his eye as she blushed. Em had no such qualms, and stared him down until he relented.  
"OK, so I'm not that against the idea. But are you sure, Sandy? Two oldies like us can't be that appealing, surely?" She looked him in the eyes then, non-verbally but very loudly shooting down that statement. He could feel himself getting hard again just at the thought.  
"I'm in then- with some caveats." He grinned. "You lose the t-shirt again, and I want a promise to the effect that at some unspecified future point, I get to see you and your mum peeing together."  
"Done." Sandy replied without a pause, and Emily beamed proudly. She stood suddenly, shrugging off and dropping the dressing gown before grabbing his hand, sauntering naked into the kitchen with him in her wake. He looked back, seeing Sandy following, tugging the Cure back up over those fantastically pert breasts. Of course they would be more comfortable naked around each other, as mother and daughter, he thought. Even if they hadn't been close enough to masturbate together it would be pretty normal. Dads and teenage daughters though... that was usually a different story. 

Em lay back on the kitchen table, looking fantastic. Maybe her breasts were hanging a bit lower as compared with Sandy's little pair, some lines on her face, but she kept herself healthy and toned, looking ten years younger than she was, and anyone of any age would be lucky to have her. Sandy pulled out a chair to their left, and smiled. They weren't going to make this easy for him. Or, he thought, looking at the dusting of freckles on Sandy's chest, her erect nipples, maybe they were. He undressed, drawing a wolf whistle from Sandy as he pulled off his own t-shirt, and grinned as Em rolled her eyes.  
"Teenage girls, they're all the same." Emily was already visibly wet (and why not?), and he could smell her sex as he stepped out of his boxers, the familiar scent as usual making him want her more.

He watched Sandy as he stepped forward, how she rose on her knees for a better view, and could feel Em's eyes on him, enjoying his gaze on their daughter. Sometimes he thought he knew Emily too well, and perhaps he did, but that was the sign of a good marriage to him, when the line between a couple's mind blurred to the point they knew how the other thought, and it only made them appreciate them more. Of course, Emily could still throw him the occasional curveball... With that thought, he took Em's hips firmly and pulled her down to the table's edge, and eagerly slid inside his wife.

He could feel Sandy's eyes on them, watching where they joined, and just how aroused Emily was, how wet she'd grown under Sandy's attention. As for Sandy- she was still kneeling up, and he had a clear view as she slipped fingers inside herself, moving them in time to the rocking of his hips. He felt himself swell a little further at that, and the squeeze of Emily's muscles in response as she noticed. He was watching his teenage daughter masturbate, right before his eyes, and more than that, she was masturbating to her parents having sex, clearly imagining her fingers playing the role of his penis. Even though he'd never considered incest as anything more than a word just a few hours earlier, he was discovering now the full arousal of the idea, the taboo thrill.

Em let out a moan of enjoyment, bringing him back to the moment, seeing Sandy bite her lower lip, eyes intense, fingers moving faster. And then Emily held out her hands toward their daughter, and he watched as though in a dream as Sandy took her mother's meaning and then her hands, and Emily guided her up onto the table, kneeling over her face, Sandy's round asscheeks laid out right before him, her sex visible, dripping wet. Emily smiled joyfully at him from between Sandy's knees, then spread them further, Sandy's hips lowering, ass tightening, lips parting, threads of moisture snapping across that pink opening.

Thomas couldn't remember a time in his life he'd been more turned on. Not the time Em had given him a handjob under the table at his family's Christmas dinner when he was twenty, not when they'd gone to the beach and fucked openly in the surf, and not when he'd been in the bath with six year old Sandy sitting on his chest and she'd elected to stand and pee, giggling- a misadventure he'd never dared tell Em about, as much as he was now sure she would have loved to hear it. But right now, with his cock to the hilt inside Emily as she explored Sandy's tight teen sex with her tongue. This was beyond any fantasy. The only reason he hadn't already orgasmed explosively inside Em was because Sandy had drained him earlier, but even so he was rushing forward far faster than normal, and seemed nearly powerless to stop it with the current arrangement.

He withdrew, feeling the air cooling his wet shaft immediately, and knelt, going to work on Emily with his tongue. Not only was it something she loved, it would buy him time to cool off- she would of course realise that, but he doubted she'd have any objections. Not to mention that from this angle he had a better view of Emily's long and playful exploration of Sandy's gleaming sex, something he didn't want to miss a moment of. Sandy was moaning and gasping now, and he could easily see the swollen bud of her clitoris, which Em was playing like a master pianist with her tongue. How did she get so good at that without any practice? He wondered for a moment, before deciding it didn't matter. Even if there were other women he didn't feel inclined to hold it against her, and particularly if Sandy was the other woman.

Just moments later, the scene approached its peak. Sandy was whimpering now, letting out little cries of pleasure, high, girlish noises, and even without expert knowledge of his daughter's orgasms, Thomas was pretty sure she wasn't far off. He could hear low throaty moans from Em as his tongue- running on autopilot as he watched her lick Sandy- danced through her favourite patterns, and found himself as ready as ever as he watched the frenzy of female sexuality above him. And then came the clincher. Sandy, face flushed and eyes both bright and glazed turned to look at him over her shoulder, fine frizzy hair wet around the temples, and moaned to him.  
"Fuck me, daddy!"

To his credit he still had enough restraint to glance at Emily, and saw her eyes widen and her jerk her head up at Sandy, a clear message. Oddly enough, he realised just how disappointed they would both be if he didn't do it, and waited not a second longer. He rose to the table and clambered on like he was twenty again, knees planted wide either side of Em's trembling body, cock straining forward in his hand as Sandy moved back to meet him, and they collided perfectly, a shock of flesh on flesh as his thighs hit hers and he slammed inside her like a hammer falling, gliding through her tightness with perfect lubrication, feeling hardly any resistance beyond the exquisite sensation as they connected like lock and key.

She cried out, in ecstasy or pain he couldn't tell, but he felt her clench around him like a fist, a hot and powerful gush of fluid spattering his legs, and came himself, feeling his balls contract like coal to diamond, pulse after pulse of heat bursting from him into her depths, over and over, his mind both a blank slate and in a state of perfect recall. He was inside her. Squirting his seed inside his teenage daughter, his only child. His penis at its most massive embraced in the tightness of her vulva, which he'd cleaned as a baby, washed as a child, seen almost every day for years before what he'd thought had to be the last time at the age of ten. And unexpectedly, his daughter, this beautiful young woman he knew intimately yet hardly recognised, had brought it back into his sight and in just a few hours led him to the point he was frozen in now, ejaculating inside her as she orgasmed, crying out in pleasure, his wife and her mother below them in similar throes of passion. It was unbelievable, and against everything he'd believed before, so incredibly right. Through the fog, he was vaguely aware of Emily reaching orgasm to her own frantic fingers, and that her other hand had been toying with one of Sandy's perfect breasts, and her mouth at the nipple of the other.

He could feel Sandy's muscles gripping him in sensuous waves, her legs trembling against his, and couldn't remember a time he'd felt more on top of the world. Even so, he was so spent he was already starting to soften, and went to slip free, but Sandy cried out wordlessly and he felt her muscles clench, and stopped where he was. They remained joined a further thirty seconds or so, then Sandy slumped bonelessly over her mother (just like she used to do as a child trying to avoid bedtime) and he popped free, a dribble of semen following his penis and falling to Em's midriff. Sandy's position couldn't have been too comfortable, but Emily grinned lazily at him from beneath her, and the two of them shifted the floppy and grinning Sandy until Em could sit upright with Sandy draped across her lap. Thomas managed to force his now complaining knee into position, sitting knee to knee with Em and gazing down on Sandy's backside. His penis was drooping now and he could feel the tip cold on his ankle, but that sight alone was nearly enough to get it upright again.

Sandy stirred, then rolled over and sat up, her fantastically long legs lying over their laps, face still slightly flushed and glistening at the temples, her eyes brighter than ever, her smile ear to ear. Thomas fell in love with her again then, and with the echoes of Em he saw in her. Looking across at his wife their eyes met, and he grinned and leant to kiss her, seeing her thinking exactly the same thing.  
"OK." He said, addressing both Sandra and Emily. "I don't think I can ever disagree with either of you again. You clearly know what's good for me far better than I ever could." Em rolled her eyes.  
"Men. I've been telling him that for years, and now he thinks it's his idea." Sandy giggled as he growled in mock displeasure.  
"You know what, dad?" She said, shyly. "You were my first." Thomas' eyes widened.  
"I was? I didn't feel anything..." Sandy blushed.  
"Well, sex toys aside. And mum's fingers. But my first man."  
"I hope I wasn't disappointing."  
"Never. I can still feel you, that pulsing like when you were coming..." He felt his face flush at that, the rapt look on Sandy's face. Em kissed his ear with a smile.  
"You both owe me, making lovey eyes at each other while I did all the work." Thomas grinned.  
"I regret nothing. Name your price." Emily prodded him with a toe, and smiled wickedly.  
"Oh, I'll think of something. Though I don't doubt it'll be something you'll love."

Sandy leant over and whispered in Em's ear, making her laugh explosively. Thomas watched them with amused curiosity- while he'd worried before, he was beginning to trust their instincts and ideas over his own, and if their future concepts paid off as well as everything so far, he'd happily follow them to the end of the world, morals be damned.  
Sandy slipped from the edge of the table to the floor, and only just kept herself upright by grabbing the nearest chair as her legs quivered and nearly collapsed underneath her. She looked up at Thomas with a smile, as Em nudged him and both her parents burst out laughing.  
"What's so funny?" Sandy asked them, puzzled.  
"Gravity, honey." Emily replied. "Look down." Bending hurriedly, Sandy saw a thick white glob of semen drip slowly from her to the floor, quickly followed by a few more watery droplets. Letting out an embarrassed squeak she clapped a hand to herself as her parents tried to contain their giggles. Em nudged Thomas.  
"She's still got a lot to learn."  
"Well, you could have warned me." Sandy complained. "But no, I didn't think of this. Or plan beyond the sex bit, really." A mischievous look crept onto her face. "Hey, dad, what if I got pregnant?" Thomas' face fell, and Emily laughed.  
"Relax honey, she's messing with you. That's not an issue."  
"I'm on the pill!" Sandy stage-whispered.  
"I'm... relieved?" Thomas replied, still working through the concepts.  
"Can you imagine how gorgeous that kid would be though?" Emily asked them dreamily, leaning on the back of a chair.  
"Honey..." Thomas said, and gestured broadly at Sandy, who blushed.  
"Quite right." Emily said with a grin, absent mindedly slipping a hand down between her legs to rub gently as her eyes explored her daughter's body.  
"Muuuuum," Sandy complained as she blushed further. Emily grinned at her wickedly.  
"I can't help it baby, you're hot. Deal. Now follow me." Standing, she took Sandy and Thomas' hands without complaint and began to walk back towards the stairs, and Thomas guessed, the shower once more.

He was glad they'd done away with the tub and installed a fairly spacious shower years ago, but even so it was a close fit with the three of them under the hot spray. Despite there just about being adequate room to stand apart, he found himself pressed between Emily at his front, and Sandy at his back, both pairs of breasts squashed against him, and himself getting hard again, though this time he could feel his penis complain as he did.  
"Ladies, please." He appealed. "I am but an old man, and cannot deal with you vigorous young things doing this to me all day." Sandy giggled and slipped away, but Em pressed closer, kissing his neck.  
"I'll give you five minutes, old man. But now the cat's out of the bag, you better not get used to taking it easy." He grinned and kissed her smiling lips.  
"Was that a threat, honey?"  
"Yeah. You can't keep up, and I'll just have to leave you for your daughter. You'll have to watch us sprightly children going at it and just sit and think about how old you are."  
"Oh no, whatever shall I do." He said, stifling laughter.  
"Seriously though, honey, you're not old, but all the same I don't want you to give yourself a heart attack trying to screw twenty times a day like a teenager. You need a break, me and the kiddo can certainly take care of ourselves, right Sandy?"  
"I think we can probably manage that, yes." Sandy smirked. "We might even let you watch." He grinned, and slapped his semi-hard penis against her.  
"Try and stop me."  
"On that subject," Emily said, sweeping back her wet hair, "remind me to tell you about when I first taught Sandy to masturbate."  
"Mum! I thought you said you'd never tell anyone?" Sandy blushed. Em grinned wickedly.  
"Your dad's not just anyone, he's your dad- right, Thomas?" He smiled, thinking. This sort of banter was standard fare for their family, but recent additions to the acceptable topics certainly added a piquant satisfaction to it all.  
"I am most definitely someone, and exempt from all 'anyone' clauses in promises with your children. It's in the parental rulebook. See promises, section D, 'when to tell your significant other that thing your kid told you not to tell anyone'. Look it up."  
"You two are pains in my ass. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" Sandy complained, pouting as she soaped her chest.  
"Usually, yes." Em replied. "But given a review of the circumstances you're exempt from the large part of the parental judgment filter now, so we can all be assholes to each other." Sandy grinned.  
"Suits me." Reaching back to run her fingers through her mass of dark hair, she looked up at Tom.  
"Daddy?"  
"Yes dear?" He replied, eyes falling to her face, then sinking happily lower. Sandy pressed herself against him, arms reaching around to pull her mother into the hug.  
"I'm starving." He kissed the top of her head, and felt Emily rest her head on his shoulder with a happy sigh. It was moments like this, he thought, that really made being a father worthwhile.  
"Love you too."


End file.
